


Dominance Issues

by pikachurin



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Mind Break, Mind Control, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikachurin/pseuds/pikachurin
Summary: When they reach a small clearing, quite a ways out of town, it finally seems to dawn on Jaskier that they haven’t stopped once to look for any herbs. His pace slows and his face scrunches in confusion, like he recognizes-“Go down and forget for me,” Geralt says idly, unsnapping the button on his breeches.Jaskier nods slowly, mouth falling open as the sign takes hold.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 58
Kudos: 1042





	Dominance Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill for the Witcher Kink Meme!
> 
> https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=152237#cmt152237
> 
> Very different from the last one I wrote, but hopefully people enjoy.

“Let’s go for a walk, Jaskier,” Geralt says under his breath, low enough that the woman fawning over Jaskier can’t hear.

Jaskier stands suddenly, giving an apologetic grin and a dramatic flourish. “So sorry to run sweet lady, but I just remembered that I promised the White Wolf my aid hunting for herbs in the forest.”

That earns Jaskier a coquettish pout and a hand that trails up his arm. “Such a shame. And I had such plans. But... perhaps we can pick up here when you return?”

“Oh, you can count on it. I’d never turn down company as delightful as yours.”

After Jaskier manages to disentangle himself from his latest admirer, he trails behind Geralt, strumming idly at his lute while Geralt considers his blessings. While he was gifted with signs, Geralt’s always had a particularly strong affinity for Axii. Enough that he could dull senses even as a child. And enough that, before he left Kaer Morhen, he could dominate the minds of his comrades with ease. Could even hold several of them under for days at a time with relative ease. A feat that had even impressed Vesemir, given that witchers develop a resistance to such magics during their training.

And Jaskier is no witcher. Geralt’s never met someone as vulnerable to trance as his little bard, whose mind empties with the slightest nudge from Geralt. Like he’s _eager_ to surrender himself, desperate to be made to yield. While he doesn’t know what Fate had planned when they met, Geralt’s just happy that, for once, he’s been handed a boon. 

When they reach a small clearing, quite a ways out of town, it finally seems to dawn on Jaskier that they haven’t stopped once to look for any herbs. His pace slows and his face scrunches in confusion, like he recognizes-

“Go down and forget for me,” Geralt says idly, unsnapping the button on his breeches.

Jaskier nods slowly, mouth falling open as the sign takes hold. The movement draws Geralt’s eyes to Jaskier’s neck and, like every time, he laments that he can’t bite his claim onto that sweet vulnerable skin. Not without drawing too much attention, at least.

“Strip yourself naked, Jaskier” Geralt orders, watching with a sharp grin as his companion complies. Placing his lute gently down next to him, Jaskier fumbles at the various buttons and latches of his clothing with slow, clumsy hands. Those get tossed aside with none of his typical care. Soon, his slim, hirsute frame is exposed for Geralt’s consideration, dappled by the afternoon sun peeking through the trees above. Pale and soft and begging for Geralt to bruise. 

“You know, you’ve been a very good boy lately,” Geralt begins, drawing the sign again, just so he can see the drool escape from Jaskier’s mouth as he falls deeper. “Keeping your troublesome little cock out of other mens’ wives, keeping my armor and weapons clean and polished without being asked. I don’t even think I have anything to scold you about today.”

A scolding is how everything had started. With Jaskier refusing to leave his side during a wraith hunt, out of some inexplicable combination of youthful recklessness and misplaced concern. With Geralt ordering him to run back to camp, and casting Axii when Jaskier had refused him. And with Geralt thundering back, ready to threaten and yell, only to freeze when he saw the docile, open look on Jaskier’s face. He left a standing order for Jaskier to run when told, and then fought to control the heat in his gut when he saw how sweetly Jaskier agreed.

Except then, Jaskier defended Geralt’s reputation in a tavern brawl with a mouthy drunk, requiring him to step in and stop the fight before things got too violent. And then, he bedded the wife of an alderman while Geralt helped a young, inexperienced witch destroy a drowner nest. About a month later, Jaskier had run across a cursed item at a market, all while looking for a dagger similar to one Geralt had lost in the hide of a kikimore.

And each time Geralt cast Axii to correct his behavior, he could feel the temptation growing stronger. Fighting the urge to bite at Jaskier’s parted lips, painfully aroused by the haziness in those usually clever eyes. Fighting the urge to _take,_ especially when Jaskier’s mind was empty of all thoughts beyond those that Geralt permitted him.

Until the temptation overtook him, and Geralt ordered Jaskier to use those clever hands to make him come, pressing kisses onto Jaskier’s slack mouth and groaning as tentative hands wrapped around his cock, clearly unused to stroking a cock as large as Geralt’s.

Geralt hasn’t been able to stop himself since.

A relieved sigh from Jaskier draws a barking laugh out of Geralt. While his true memories are bound far beyond what his conscious mind can access, trust Jaskier to be dramatic even in trance. At least with him so far under, Geralt can stare his fill. Eyes trailing over the swirl of dark fur of Jaskier’s chest and the pink nipples peeking out just begging to be teased. Over the finer hairs of his stomach and down to the wild growth at the base of his cute little prick and the surprisingly fat balls that hang heavy between his thighs.

“On your knees for me,” Geralt orders, pulling out his hardened cock. In Jaskier’s rush to obey, he winds up kneeling on his embroidered doublet, eyes locked on Geralt’s exposed dick. Between his legs, Jaskier’s own cock starts to rise at the sight, a suggestion that Geralt layered into Jaskier’s conscious mind for his own amusement. Pretending not to notice the way Jaskier goes bright red, breeches tenting as he openly oggles Geralt during his evening bath.

“Open your mouth,” he says, slapping his cock against Jaskier’s cheek with a heavy thud. He traces the curve of Jaskier’s lips with the head of his cock, savoring the hot breath caressing his shaft.

“Go ahead and suck me, bitch.” Geralt adds on the nickname just to see Jaskier’s cock jumps at his given title. Jaskier’s experienced mouth wraps around him expertly, all of his initial clumsy slurping long trained out of him by months and months of giving blowjobs on demand. 

Geralt pets Jaskier as his little bitch suckles with hungry fervor, drunk on the scent of Jaskier’s arousal. For fun, he fists Jaskier’s hair and thrusts in, groaning as Jaskier’s throat chokes around him.

Geralt decides he wants more of that today, and he thrusts his hips forward with a simple command. “Choke on it, bitch.”

Jaskier surges forward at the command, taking Geralt into his mouth until his throat is fluttering helplessly around his huge dick. Tears stream down Jaskier’s face, body clearly screaming for air but bound to Geralt’s demands. Certain that his little bitch would sooner pass out than break free of Geralt’s hold on his mind, luxuriating in the filthy wet heat of Jaskier’s mouth, Geralt comes, grunting as he forces himself so far down Jaskier’s throat that he has no choice but to swallow thickly around Geralt.

Satisfaction warm and heavy in his bones, Geralt pulls out so that Jaskier can nurse at the tip and catch any final traces of his seed before he tucks himself away. Staring down at Jaskier’s red, messy face and his mussed hair, Geralt starts to think about what comes next.

This part, where he makes Jaskier dance to his whims, is honestly his favorite.

“Touch yourself, like I showed you. And no coming,” Geralt says, watching as Jaskier’s right hand reaches down between his thighs, jacking his leaking prick with the tips of his thumb and forefinger. His left hand reaches up to scratch at the thick hair on his pecs, before pinching and pulling harshly at his nipples. First one, then the other, until both were pebbled and swollen, Jaskier squirming as pleasure-pain wracks his body and makes him whine.

“Tell me what you’re doing, and why,” Geralt says, as Jaskier’s actions start to take on a desperate edge, clearly close to orgasm.

“O-only real men enjoy an entire hand around their cocks. Boys like me get two fingers for their- their little boy cocks. And, I-” Jaskier chokes around a moan, before swallowing hard. “And I’m such a tit whore. I just- I need to play with them whenever I play with myself. Geralt, Geralt, please-”

Jaskier reeks of desire, enough that Geralt’s almost inclined to make Jaskier use his mouth again.

“You’re going to spend the evening in our room,” Geralt says instead, thinking back to the woman from earlier with slight irritation. “Naked because you’re convinced the room will be too stifling otherwise.”

“Yes, Geralt. Please,” Jaskier whines.

“And when you clean my armor tonight, you’re going to find it painfully arousing. Each second you touch it will make your little cock harder, stiffer, until it becomes so much that you’ll spill yourself as soon as you’re finished.”

“ _Y-yessss,_ ” Jaskier moans out, hand a blur on his cock as he works himself into a frenzy.

“Onto your lute,” Geralt decides, and Jaskier immediately shoots white and thick across the treated wood, a load so big that the scent sears its way into Geralt’s nose. “Lick it clean when you’re done.”

There’s a hilariously simple look of bliss on Jaskier’s face as his tongue laps eagerly at his mess, until his instrument is clean and his cheeks are covered with his own seed. 

“That’s a good little bitch,” Geralt says, snorting as Jaskier’s limp cock gives a valiant twitch. He slides his boot between Jaskier’s legs, pressing until Jaskier’s dick is pressed tight against Geralt’s foot. Until he’s sure he must be crushing Jaskier’s balls, despite the wafting odor of arousal coming off of his bard.

Interesting. That’s not a desire Geralt built into Jaskier, but he can work with this.

“Tell me what you like so much about getting your little prick crushed,” Geralt says, weaving Axii again to watch Jaskier’s blissed out expression go neutral.

“I like that it’s you.” Jaskier says simply. “I’d like anything if it was you.”

“What do you mean, Jaskier?” Geralt asks, intrigued by the prospect of _anything._

“Geralt, my love... I’d do _anything_ for you.”

Geralt pulls back to stare at Jaskier in disbelief, ignoring the wounded noise his lark makes as the pressure around his cock is relieved. Of all of the answers Geralt had expected, a desire for pain, an interest in submission… **never** had he considered that Jaskier would do something as ridiculous as fall for his witcher. There’s a tightness in his chest that he can’t decipher as he considers this development, staring down at his enthralled bard. 

And then a realization too delicious to ignore dawns on him. If Jaskier loves him, then nothing holds Geralt back from claiming the bard’s conscious self as his own. Geralt could train Jaskier all over again, molding him into Geralt’s perfect slut both in and out of Axii. 

Jaskier said _anything._

“Jaskier,” Geralt starts, hand moving down to scratch at his scalp. “Tonight, after you think I’ve gone to sleep, you’ll have the urge to explore my body. You’ll know it’s wrong and that you shouldn’t do it without permission. But I’ll be so close, won’t I?”

“So close...” Jaskier murmurs, staring up at Geralt.

“Exactly. So close you can all you can smell is the musk of my body. And so close that if you reach down a little, you’ll have your hand around my big, perfect cock. And once you have my cock in your hands, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll have to stroke it, you’ll _need_ to know what it feels like hard and throbbing in your hands.”

“Hard… throbbing,” Jaskier parrots with a stupid grin.

“But do you know what’s special about my cock?” Jaskier shakes his head at that, enraptured by the scenario Geralt is painting. “It’s that every stroke will feel thirty times better than the best sex you remember having. So much pleasure that a few strokes will be enough to make your little cock cream itself with the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had. All from touching my magic witcher cock.

“Magic witcher cock,” Jaskier giggles out, cock back at full mast.

“And if touching it feels that good, imagine how much better it’ll be in your mouth. Sliding against your tongue, salty and heavy. I bet that’ll give you continuous orgasms that never stop. One after another after another, until your balls ache and your little prick can’t get up anymore. But you won’t stop, will you? Not until your mouth is full of my hot seed.”

“Hot seed.” Jaskier’s drooling, staring up at him imploringly as he starts to squirm again.

“When I finish in your mouth, you’re going to realize exactly what you’ve done. You’ll swallow, and you’ll lick up the mess you’ve made, but you’ll know that I’m going to realize what happened as soon as I wake up. So in the morning, you’re going to confess e _verything._ What you did, how the pleasure made you wild and lust-drunk. And most importantly, why you did it.”

“Love,” Jaskier whispers out, shame written on his face for something he’s yet to do.

“Exactly. **Love**. I want you to grovel because you love me. And because you’re terrified I’ll run you off. So that, when you hear that I want to keep you, you’re going to be the happiest you’ve ever been. So happy and so grateful that you’ll accept any request I make of you. Because, no matter what I ask, obedience feels like pure pleasure to you. Sex? Any way, anytime, anywhere, no matter who’s around to watch you get ruined. Spankings? You’ll bend over my lap, count the slaps off, and even ride me afterwards if I demand it. Control of your cock? You’ll beg me to use Axii to make it so that you can’t even get hard without my explicit permission. Anything, right? Anything, so long as it’s me?”

“ _Anything_ ,” Jaskier vows, face back in a wide grin, seemingly excited about his future as Geralt’s personal fuckpet.

“Good boy. Now, clean yourself off. Get dressed. And forget for me, just one more time,” Geralt says, with one last sign.


End file.
